Gravel In My Tread
excerpts from a travel journal
29 JAN 2017
Saturday, 29 JAN 2017 -
We catch the shuttle to the Dublin Airport. Very lax security here, by the way. We catch a flight with maybe 20 others to Edinburgh. Take a bus to our hotel. It's only 8 or 9 so the room isn't ready but we can leave our things. We do that.
We trawl the city for food - I'm starving and also need coffee. Everything seems closed and I can't tell if it's because it's early or Sunday. Or early on a Sunday. We eventually find Pret A Manger, a sort of European equivalent to Starbucks. I got a chocolate croissant and parfait and caramel latte. It was great.
We find ourselves headed to Edinburgh Castle, which looks positively monstrous on its hilltop, looming over us. It cost something like twenty Euro to enter. We pay, but it leaves a bitter taste in our mouths. It's not nearly so big and cool as it seems. But it is sort of big. And sort of cool. It offers an incredible view of the city and sea beyond. Also a great a view of hundreds of Asians wearing bubble jackets posing and taking pictures of themselves and each other in bubble jackets. Tourist traps are the worst. You really want to see them but so does everyone else. So it sort of kills the satisfaction and wonder I obtain from the thing. Oh well. Castles are still pretty cool.
I also just remembered I forgot to mention I went into a vintage store yesterday in Dublin after tattoos. I saw this red and blue flannel immediately, put it on, and it fit absolutely perfectly. So I bought it. And I'm quite satisfied with it.
Okay, back on track - after the castle we go back to the hotel; on the way we stop at a great little used book store. The walls were positively stuffed floor to ceiling with books. I picked up a copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. I am on a mission to collect a copy of the first book from each non-English speaking country we visit, including the UK since the English and American editions are different. This store had a few first editions, which were cool, but I'm not that serious a book collector so I opted for a cheaper copy.
Next we stumble upon Lebowski's. It's a Big Lebowski themed bar. They serve over 20 unique White Russians, and the movie is playing on screens in the lounge area. I got the "Original" and it was superb.
Noah was looking pretty sullen and said he was feeling sick so I escorted him back to the hotel and continued on my own. I continue my meanderings through the beautiful city. Chapels, churches, arches, crosses, cemeteries, gardens. Everything stone. Everything old. I follow a nature trail that points be toward the Scottish Gallery of Modern Art. There's two large, separate buildings. I spent two hours there, between the two of them. In the front lawn of the first building is a lone sign that reads THERE WILL BE NO MIRACLES HERE. There's a marvelous land structure of grass and water in front of the second building. I couldn't begin to describe it, really, but it was beautiful. On the front of the second building, above the tall doors, a header reads EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE ALRIGHT.
I hope so.
A stunning French girl gave me a cigarette outside the first building. Lots of French girls looked at lots of marvelous art and lots of "What even is this" art with me. Well. At the same time as me.
I started making my way back to the hotel. I stopped at a restaurant and bar for a Scottish lunch and pint. The pint is important. Because it's beer and I wanted it. I got pork and haggis sausage on a bed of mashed potatoes, with onion rings and gravy piled on top. The second course was cranachan, a tradition Scottish dessert consisting of layers of whipped cream, honey, whisky, raspberries, and toasted oatmeal. Holy shit though. The beer was okay. I'm not that into lagers but Europe is all about that.
I stopped back at the hotel to write this and allow my phone to charge before I head back out. Noah is still in bed and has no interest in leaving. Oh well.
Currently on a train from Edinburgh to Inverness, in the Scottish Highlands. It sits just a few miles from Loch Ness. Nessie motherfucker! Loch Ness is one of the few places I've actually wanted to visit for a long time. It looks incredible. We'll see.
Alright, okay, yeah, let's take it back a few hours. A lot of hours. Well, some hours. I left Noah still in bed around 6 last night. I was in search of a drunken stupor and new friends. Spoiler: I pretty much do that. I first headed toward the Lebowski bar. I was happy to go somewhere else should it have come up, but this gave me a direction to walk at least.
Knowing I'd be out for quite a while, drinking the whole time, I gave myself permission to be a big dummy and buy some cigarettes. The Sainsbury didn't carry any Marlboros and they keep all their cigs (which have all white packaging - no advertising allowed) behind a sliding door so it's near impossible to make an informed decision. I asked for whatever cheap locals buy. I got a pack of twenty Sterlings, king size. Oh shit, I needed a lighter too. I asked the kid if they had matches, expecting a free pack. Nope. He sold me a huge box of matches that I felt too awkward to deny. The Scot behind me was laughing and gave me shit, asking if I needed an ashtray too. He clapped my shoulder. He seemed okay.
I made it to Lebowski's. I ordered another Original. There was an older Englishwoman and Frenchman at the end of the bar, talking to a young Scotsman on the other side of the bar. They pestered him regarding his (Apparently) strange accent. Then the conversation devolved into him defending sexism and positing that it's simply impossible not to be. I ordered the Jeffrey, which had espresso, which is great. I basically slammed it and made for the door. This was a cool place, but relatively empty and just not what I was looking for.
I stepped out of the bar and lit a cigarette which, by the way, I really did hear referred to as a fag at least once in Dublin. I was smoking with another man outside the bar who I had asked for a light so I wouldn't have to pull out my lifetime supply of matches. Who needs that many matches? It's not the Stone Age. Anyway, the man was from Edinburgh. I asked him about Glasgow, mentioning it may be an upcoming stop for me. He politely informed it's a shit hole. And they're jealous of Edinburgh. And their accents are all slang - total shit. I guess Glasgow is Scotland's Detroit. His wife came out to join us. She immediately asked about Trump. I laughed and groaned and tried to sidestep a sore subject. She said he seems like a good thing for America and would finally pull the country forward. I mentioned his banning of Muslims from just the previous day, and she said that was good, and her country ought to do the same. I wished them a good night and left.
I made off in a random direction and soon came across a bar which I could see was empty save for the cute bartender. I entered. She asked me what I wanted and I asked for her recommendation. She offered an IPA. I made sure that was India, not Ireland. She seemed confused so I explained my previous experience in Dublin. She assured me it was a true IPA and also confirmed that the Irish IPA thing was weird. I mean, it definitely is, so.
I found her very easy to talk to. Her name was Telani and she had been living Edinburgh with her boyfriend for eleven months. She is Australian. She seemed excited about my trip and highly recommended Isle of Skye and Inverness. And the Scottish Highlands in general. I agreed and thanked her. She mentioned wanting to travel through America next year but it was looking tricky with Trump ()Shit that's a good punk band name). I apologized profusely.
We were getting along quite well, talking for maybe half an hour. Then James happened. I could see the look of exasperation on face as soon as he entered. He ordered a drink and we started talking.
James knows a lot about American politics and history. More than me, to be sure. And he liked that. That's really great for James. I could give a shit. I tried to have a polite if slightly disengaging conversation with him but he mostly just wanted to talk at me. After a bit I ordered another drink and stepped out for a smoke. James was truly exhausting. Came back in and made for the toilet. James was happy to invite himself along. I did my business quicker than him and on my way back up the stairs to the bar I crossed paths with Telani and asked "He come here often?" "Yeah." "Lucky you." She smiled and laughed.
I spent a while yet there trying to talk to Telani but being constantly dragged into a political battle of which I was ill equipped and really could not possibly have been less interested in. Eventually she told him "Enough!" quite sternly, It sort of worked for a minute. I left earlier than I would have liked, but these things happen. I smiled and waved at Telani through the window as I passed by; she waved and gave me a tired sort of look, seeming to apologize for James. Fuck you James.
Next I found a pool hall. Pool was downstairs, food and drink upstairs. I had upstairs all to myself and the downstairs was mostly empty as well.The bartender was a very nice guy, probably about my age. I asked for a cheap pint and some garlic bread. When he brought that very good hot cheesy bread out to me, he asked if I wanted sauce and what kind. I asked his recommendation, to which he responded "Well mayo goes with everything." No. It doesn't. I requested marinara; he said he'd bring out what he's got. Moments later he appeared with three bottles of Heinz a sweet and sour, a "very spicy" which wasn't, and a sort of tangy sauce. They were all surprisingly good. I finished and made for my next stop. It felt like my next would probably be my last, so I was scoping for a good spot.
I entered a place called The Hanging Bat. It had a cool name and sign, which is basically all I need really. It also looked the most like a place where I could sit at the bar and drink craft beer which I was already sorely missing. That's exactly what I did. I had a pretty good IPA that I could feel making me drunker with each glug. I knew as I finished that pint that if I had another I'd start to get sloppy.
So I ordered another pint of that good good and headed to the toilets. They were labeled Batmen and Batwomen. Let me be clear. These are not Batman themed. They were just zoological themed. It was weird but, like, okay. The urinals were re-purposed kegs. neat.
I drank the beer and was sloppy drunk and left and headed for the hostel. I went the wrong way. I had to pee so I went into a cemetery. There was someone sleeping there so I peed further away. Also there was a great view of Edinburgh Castle lit by the moon and passing clouds. I took some pictures and headed back tot he hostel. The right way.
I walked way past the hostel. I turned back. I found the hostel. I made it to the room. I got into the top bunk and tried to sleep. I went to the bathroom and vomited a few times. I fell asleep eventually. Good job me.
I woke in the morning, far too early, to Noah in the bathroom. I was still very drunk. Slept poorly. I got up and showered which helped some. We decided we needed food quite bad. And also we needed to do some dang laundry. We were stinky boys. And also we were ready to head for Inverness.
We got food at a cafe. I got a Scottish breakfast of toast, baked beans, fried eggs, bacon, sausage, "hushbrowns" (truly I don't know if this was a typo or what, because they were sort of like hashbrowns and sort of like hush puppies and fuck I get it now), and mushrooms. It was so very good. And the coffee! I'm moving here for the coffee alone.
Noah told me he felt much better. Well, after sleeping 14 hours I fucking hope so.
